


Roses and Thorns

by SeaBur



Category: Harry Potter - Fandom, Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Drama, F/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2011-01-03
Updated: 2011-07-21
Packaged: 2017-10-17 22:33:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 9,204
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/181999
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SeaBur/pseuds/SeaBur
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Hello there!</p><p>I know this chapter was a little short. And it feel kind of choppy to me … does it feel choppy to you to? Well, anyway, I know it was also probably a bit confusing. I hate to break it to you, but you're going to be confused for a while. None of it's going to make sense for quite a while. There will be some hints as to what's going on, but you won't know for sure until much later in the story. So, if you don't like not knowing what's going on, then I suggest you stop reading this story here and now. Hahahha. For those of you who decide to continue reading, I know it sucks, but it's fun for me! XD I'll see you guys in chapter two!</p><p>With love,<br/>-Chelsea(:</p>
        </blockquote>





	1. Feigning Normality

"You can't keep acting like this!"

Oliver glanced at the door to see that Gary had barged in, frustrated as ever. As soon as he saw who it was, he went back to staring at the wall.

I grabbed Gary and pulled him out of Oliver's room, closing the door behind us. "Lay off, Gare. He's lost apart of who is," I said.

Before Gary could respond, Alan butted in. "I have to side with Gary one this one, David. He should have known that with Voldemort back, no one was safe. He's going to do whatever he can to try and break you, but it's your job to make sure he doesn't. Oliver should be learning how to do this, not letting his own misery kill him."

"He's just a kid!"

"Kid or not, this isn't healthy! He won't eat, he won't sleep, he won't talk, he won't do anything, but lie there all day! ...He's killing himself, David."

I wanted to fight back, wanted to stand up for Oliver, but Gary was right ... he was killing himself. Anyone who looked at him could see how sick he was. His skin was a sickly chalk color, with dark circles under his eyes that almost looked painful, and his body reduced down to nothing more than skin and bones.

"I know he is..." I said, my head hung low with sadness.

"So then let me do something about it!"

"Like what, Gary? Huh? What could you possibly do to help him? Yell and scream? Do you really think that's going to help..?"

"He's got a point, Gary," Alan said, sighing with defeat.

"So we're just supposed to do nothing?"

"Well, yeah, I guess. I don't think we can do anything."

"We don't like this anymore than you do, Gare, but there's nothing we can do," I said.

The three of us shared a look. There was nothing more we could do. Defeated, we returned to what we were doing before.

* * *

They finally walked away. I had been listening to them argue the whole time. I wish I could say they were wrong about me, but I can't. I hadn't been the same since that day.

I would never be the same, no matter how hard they tried. They've done so much for me, but I can't give them what they really want: I can't be a person, just a empty shell. No one can change that.

Maybe I could make a bit of an effort, though. At least fake it, make them think I'm getting better.

Not today, though. If I did it today, they'd see right through it. For one, they were just talking about it, and, for two, I couldn't pull it off just yet. I'd need some time to prepare or whatever.

Tomorrow I begin my fake journey to normal.

* * *

"Oliver! You're... you're out of your room," David said, obviously shocked.

"Do you want anything for breakfast?" Alan offered. If he was shocked, he wasn't about to show it.

I stood there awkwardly for a second, my hands in my pockets. I had spent all night preparing myself, but it would seem I couldn't fake it good enough to speak. I settled for shaking my head instead.

David still looked shocked, Gary looked ecstatic, and Alan, despite his nearly blank stare, seemed to be pleased with my "progress."

I thought I had prepared myself for this, but I guess I was wrong. I needed to get away, without completing blowing my cover.

I saw the front door and decided some fresh air might do me some good.

"Where are you going? For a walk?" Gary asked as I began heading for the door.

I paused, turning back towards them and nodded my head, before walking out the door.

As soon as I got out, I began regretting my decision. It was hotter than hell out here. It was a very dry heat as well. The kind that with every breath you take, you feel one step closer to dehydration, like the air is sucking you dry.

I don't understand why we have to live in this god-forsaken hell hole. Couldn't we have moved somewhere a bit nicer? I've heard that California gets real nice weather, but no, we end up in bloody Texas. Actually, I stand corrected, we're not in Texas, we're the middle of nowhere.

I wasn't exactly sure where I was walking. I guess it didn't really matter. Being in the middle of nowhere, there's really nothing around you.

It felt like I was out there, walking around, for hours. Perhaps I was. All I knew was that the wind had began picking up. Before I knew it, I couldn't even see, as there was more sand in the air than … well, air. I had to pull my shirt over my mouth just so I could keep breathing. I probably should've started heading back as soon as the wind began picking up, but I didn't. I waited until it was too late.

Congratulations, you bloody idiot, you just got yourself stuck in a sandstorm.

I sat down and put my head in between my legs, knowing there was nothing more I could do.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello there!
> 
> I know this chapter was a little short. And it feel kind of choppy to me … does it feel choppy to you to? Well, anyway, I know it was also probably a bit confusing. I hate to break it to you, but you're going to be confused for a while. None of it's going to make sense for quite a while. There will be some hints as to what's going on, but you won't know for sure until much later in the story. So, if you don't like not knowing what's going on, then I suggest you stop reading this story here and now. Hahahha. For those of you who decide to continue reading, I know it sucks, but it's fun for me! XD I'll see you guys in chapter two!
> 
> With love,  
> -Chelsea(:


	2. Feigning Normality

"What hurts the most, was being so close and having so much to say and watching you just walk away."

I had never heard such a beautiful voice. It was literally the voice of an angel. Soft, but strong, beautiful and free. I could hear the sweet strumming of an acoustic guitar, adding to the beauty of the angel's voice.

I tried to open my eyes, but the suddenness of light stung and I quickly shut them again.

"You're awake," the sweet voice spoke.

I wanted to see the face that went with the voice, so I painfully forced my eyes open.

When my eyes adjusted, I could see the owner of the voice - a young girl with piercing yet delicate ice blue eyes and wavy golden blonde hair with a cowboy hat settled over it - smiling down at me. I wasn't sure who she was or why I was here, but I was pretty sure that my first guess, an angel, was wrong. Unless they had farm-girl angels with thick southern accents.

"Howdy, sleepyhead. My name's Annabelle. You're lucky I saw you sittin' out there. Y'ain't gonna stand a chance against one of them sand storms. Nasty little devils, they are," she said, grinning at me.

I just stared. I shouldn't be here. This could go very wrong, very quickly.

"Don't even think about leavin', boy. I ain't lettin' you go until this here storm passes," she said, narrowing her eyes at me.

It reminded me a bit of my mother, the way she was warning me like I was still a little kid and the whole reading my mind thing.

"Come here," she said, her bright smile returning.

She grabbed my arm, pulling me off the couch I had been lying on. I nearly fell as she had yanked me without giving me much chance to set myself straight. Even once I was on my feet, I felt as if I was going to fall as she dragged me into the kitchen of her house. She was a petite little thing, but strong as hell. Her strength definitely did not fit her size.

She left me standing there as she went into another room. She came back within a flash, dragging a small table with a couple of chairs. She then quickly shoved me into one of the chairs.

"I don't know who feeds you, but they're fired! Growin' boy like yourself needs real food. I mean, look at you! You're skinner than a piece of hay! You are in some serious need of good soul food. Don't worry, I'm a pro. Mama taught me how to satisfy any appetite!" she said as she pulled out some pots and ingredients.

Muggles. I feel sorry for them, always having to do things the hard way. Of course, I haven't been able to use any magic in quite some time, either. At least the muggles don't know what they're missing.

She began cooking, and as she did, she began to sing again. I just sat, watching and listening.

"There's that star, the one they said we'd never reach and just close your eyes. There's the missing moon, there's the Milky Way. Heaven's straight ahead, we'll be there today. Rainbows right and left, sunshine everywhere. If it couldn't be, baby, how did we get here?"

She really did have the voice of an angel, and she was also a country girl through and through. The accent, the songs, the cooking, even her outfit. She wore denim shorts, a white tank top with a red flannel shirt over it that she had tied in a knot just below her chest and rolled up the sleeves on so they didn't pass her elbows, and a classic cowboy hat and pair of boots.

Eventually, she set a big plate full of food down in front of me and plopped down into the other chair.

I stared down at the plate. There was a lot of food on there, all of it very country and southern, like fried chicken.

"It's not poison, I promise," she said, laughing.

That wasn't why I wasn't eating. I hadn't eaten anything since that day. Nothing looked good anymore and I almost enjoyed the starving feeling. I guess I had turned into a bit of a masochist or something. I wanted the pain, the hunger, the misery. I wanted it because it was the only thing I had left.

However, surprisingly, this food actually looked ... well, good. It was the first time any food looked appetizing in any way.

With a hesitant and shaking hand, I picked up the fork and took a small bite of the mashed potatoes. I was used to mashed potatoes having gravy, but instead hers were made with some type of stuff cooked in. I wasn't sure what it was, but it was even better than gravy.

Damn. She was a good cook.

After that first bite, I couldn't stop. Everything was so good. I couldn't believe this strange little girl ended up being the first person to get me to eat again.

Something about her and about this house just reminded me so much of home, of what life used to be like.

"If I remember right, you're name is Oliver, m'i'right?"

I looked up at her, swallowing a big bite of fried chicken. I nodded, though I wasn't entirely sure how she knew that.

She laughed. "You don't talk much, do you?" she asked.

I shook my head. In fact, I haven't said a single word since that day.

"So you live in that big house way out there with your ... uncles? Yeah, uncles. Three of them, right?"

I nodded again. She knew quite a bit, surprisingly.

"So, do you have a big family?" she asked.

Another nod.

"Me too," she said, laughing. "I'm the youngest of ten. I don't have any other family, though. No aunts and uncles or grandparents or anything. Just my dad and my brothers."

"No sisters?" I asked.

I froze, wide eyed. She must have noticed my reaction as she didn't answer.

I couldn't believe I had said something. In just a short amount of time this girl has reminded me of home, gotten me to eat, and even managed to pull some words out of me. I don't know how, but she has.

"You seem surprised. When you said you didn't talk, you meant ever, huh?" she asked.

"I haven't said a word in nearly a year," I said quietly.

She decided to drop the subject there, thankfully.

"No, no sisters," she replied finally, smiling. "No mother, either. She passed a few years ago. Just me and the boys now."

"You say that so casually," I said, looking up at her. As I said it, I realized it could come off as an insult, though it was simple curiosity.

"Well, I miss her, of course, but Mama wouldn't want us moping around. She would want us to be happy, and we are. We all loved Mama dearly and we always will, but everyone's got their own time to go. Hers was sooner than we would've liked, but there's no use in griping about the things you can't change. Just gotta be grateful for the time you did getta spend with 'em."

"S'pose so." I wish I could have that kind of outlook...

"That's a gorgeous accent you got there. Where're you from?"

"England," I replied.

"Ah, that's what I figured."

Silence fell between. It felt like an awkward silence to me, but she didn't seen to think so, as she simply began humming a song, that bright smile still on her lips. She may have felt fine, but, like I said, it felt awkward to me, so I decided to break it.

"How old are you?" I asked. It had been bugging me for a while. She seemed mature and strong, but she was so petite. I couldn't figure out how old she was.

"Sixteen," she replied.

"You're quite mature for your age."

"Of course I am. Growin' up on a farm tends to have that effect. All of us have to work all day to keep things running smoothly. Besides, I had nine older brothers to look up to and Mama, of course."

What was she like? You're mum, I mean," I asked.

"She was such a sweetie. Nicest gal in all the world, really. Pa, my brothers, and I have always been pretty crazy and rowdy, you know? Not Mama, though. She was the quiet type, always smiling sweetly, never complained about a thing, was grateful for every little thing in her life...Just the sweetest thing ever," she replied, smiling fondly at the thoughts of her mum.

"What happened?" she asked suddenly. "You don't have to answer," she added. "I'm just curious."

"What do you mean?"

"Well, you obviously don't eat anymore, you said you haven't talked for almost a year, you have no personality, like you're just this empty shell, and, judging by how dark the skin around your eyes is, I'm guessing you don't even sleep. Why is that, though?"

"I ..." I wasn't sure what to say. I didn't want to think about it, let alone talk to someone about it.

"You don't have to tell me," she repeated, smiling lightly.

"No ... It's okay. I think I at least owe you that," I said.

I owed her so much. She's saved me from a storm, got me eating and talking again, been so kind, and made me feel a bit more normal. I would have no problem convincing my uncles that I'm becoming my old self again when I got home. She's made faking it so much easier. I actually kind of /wanted/ to tell her.

"I ... Uhm ... Well, I used to have a twin."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dear lovely readers,
> 
> I know, I know, it's so confusing. You have no idea what's going on and you hate me for it. I get it. I promise, it'll all make sense soon enough. I haven't decided exactly when it'll be explained. Originally, it was going to be a long, long time. Now, I'm think I might do it a bit. However, "a bit sooner" means about maybe four or five more chapters instead of twelve or thirteen. XD I'll leave you guys some hints throughout the story, but you won't know for sure until then. There's actually a couple hints in this chapter. If you want to make some guesses, go ahead. But I won't tell you if you're right. XD It's funny because it all seems so obvious to mean. It seems like you guys should've figured it all out in the first chapter, but I guess that's just because I wrote it, you know? Hahhaha. So, we'll see. Thanks for reading, guys! (:
> 
> With love,  
> -Chelsea(:


	3. Blackjack

"What happened?" she asked quietly, her eyes full of sadness. Which surprised me, honestly. I mean, I had seen the sympathy before, time and time again, from Gary, David, and even Alan, but this wasn't sympathy. It was like she was truly mourning his death as if she had known him personally.

"He was murdered."

Annabelle was quiet for a moment, seeming to be thinking something over. Finally, she spoke up again.

"Is that why you asked me about my mother?"

I nodded my head slowly. "I wish I could've handle it like you had."

Suddenly, a smile appeared on her face and she started laughing. I stared at her curiously, waiting for an explanation. "How can you compare what happened with Mama to what happened with your own twin? Of course I can handle it better than you. I lost a family member because it was her time to go. It wasn't no one's fault. You, Oliver . . . you lost half of who you are and someone out there is responsible for it. It just ain't the same thing. Give yourself a break, hun. I think you're handling it mighty well. I'm surprised you're still alive, if truth be told. I ain't tryin' to be a downer or anythin', it's just . . . If I was in your position, I probably wouldn't've survived it."

Maybe she was right, maybe she wasn't. I didn't take the time to figure it out; I just wanted to stop thinking about it. People say talking about it helps, but, here I am, talking about it, and I'm not feeling even a little bit better. I prefer to just tuck this thing away in the corner of my mind and not think about it. So, I decided to change the subject.

"Where's your family?" I asked curiously.

"Blackjack," she replied, the corners of her mouth pulling up into an almost mischievous little smirk.

My eyebrows furrowed in confusion and frustration. Damn. I knew this would happen. Sooner or later, every muggle throws a term out there that people like me won't know. "Poker" was one of those terms.

"You've never heard of Blackjack? Did ya grow up on another planet or somethin'?" she asked, laughing.

"Something like that," I mumbled quietly.

She smiled brightly and grabbed my hand again. Luckily, I was prepared for her yanking me out of my chair and dragging me through the house. Unlike last time, I didn't stumble at all. She dragged me through the halls of the house and to a door tuck away at the end of the hall. She opened it, revealing a cool (as cool as the air can be in a desert, anyway) room. There was a shaggy, deep red rug in the middle, covering up most of the concrete floor and in the center of said rug, there was a big old wooden table with ten men, varying in ages, sitting around it. In front of each man was a pile of flat plastic circles in red, white, blue, black, and green.

"Howdy, Ginger," one of them said, smirking at me. It took me a minute to realize he was referring to my red hair.

"Boys, this here is Oliver. Oliver, these are my brothers, Hunter, the youngest, Austin, Nathan, Calvin, Teddy, Matt, John, Jay, and the oldest, Kurt. And this," she prompted, standing behind the oldest man at the table, "This here is Pa."

"Nice ta meet ya, Sonny," her dad said, flashing me a crooked smile. "Care ta join?"

"I, uhm … I don't really know how to play," I hesitantly replied.

"Don't know how to play blackjack?" Jay exclaimed with a hearty laugh. "Why, it's the easiest card game there is, boy!"

"Next ta fifty-two card pick-up, that is," Hunter added with a sly wink, only confusing me more as I had no idea what fifty-two card pick-up was either.

"C'mon, Oliver. I'll help ya," Annabelle said, smiling brightly with a somewhat mischievous glint in her eye.

I watched, completely baffled, as Annabelle's dad split the stack of small pieces of paper in half and used his hands to shuffle the halves back together. The backs of these papers had an intricate red design on them, but I couldn't quite get a good look at the other side. I had never even seen these before. What if it's something all muggles knew about? I mean, they already knew I've never heard of this blackjack game, how much more could I possibly get away with before they really started getting suspicious?

"Damn. You've never even seen a deck of cards before, 'ave ya?" Kurt asked, apparently having noticed my confusion while staring at what I'm assuming would be the "deck of cards."

Slowly, I shook my head.

"Ah, well no worries, Sonny. S'all simple enough," their dad said.

I watched curiously as he spread the cards out even in a curved bridge on the table. He then flipped the card at the end, causing a wave to travel through the other cards, flipping them over as well. What I saw only confused me more. Reds and blacks, numbers, letters, and shapes.

"Bloodly hell," I mumbled to myself.

My brain was starting to hurt just looking at all these. I prayed it would be simpler than it looked.

"Alright," he said, pushing up four cards, two black, two red, all with different shapes. "Ya got yer diamonds, hearts, spades, and clubs. Those are the suits. Lucky for you, suits don't mean shit in blackjack. The only thing that matters are the numbers and letters. Two through ten and K, Q, J, and A, also known as king, queen, jack, and ace. Object of the game is simple enough; get yer cards to equal as close to twenty-one as possible, without going over. Number cards as obviously worth their numbers. So, twos are worth two, threes are worth three, fours are worth four, and so on and so forth. Kings, queens, and jacks are all worth ten, while aces can be either eleven or one, a choice you can make. Make sense so far?" I nodded slowly. "Good. Yu'll be dealt two cards, one face up, one face down. Based on that, you can either hit, which means getting another card, or stay. Granted, there are other options, but those get a lil complicated, so we'll keep it with just hit and stay for your first time. You'll be playing against the dealer, not against the other players. So all you really have to do is get closer to twenty-one than whoever is dealing."

"Got all that?" Austin asked, laughing.

"I … I think so."

The explanation had gone by pretty quick, but I think I understood the gist of it. The true test, though, was to play.

"Get it? Got it? Doubt it. Let's play. C'mon, deal 'em out, old man," Matt said quickly, bouncing in his seat.

"Hold yer horses there, boy," his dad replied, laughing. "No chips, Annie?"

"No chips. Not for his first time, anyway," she replied, winking at me.

I assumed the "chips" were those flat circles, considering that when it was decided to play without the "chips," everyone turned their stack of flat circles in to their dad, who put them aside.

As their dad began shuffling the cards again, Annabelle pulled up a chair for me. I took a deep breath and sat. Annabelle kneeled down on the ground next to me. I almost felt bad for being on a chair while this young lady was on the floor (so apparently my mother hadn't completely failed to hammer in some manners into me), but she didn't seem to mind. In fact, she still had that bright smile on her face and was even humming a happy tune. She was by far the most easy-going girl I had ever met. A pleasant change from the uptight ones, that's for sure.

I watched as their dad dealt out one card, face down to everyone, starting with the person on his left and continuing all the way around, dealing himself last. Then he went around and did this again, except this time, dealt the card face up. My face up card was a seven. I sat, unmoving, as everyone else peeked at their face down card. I looked at Annabelle for some directions.

"Go ahead," she said, smiling up at me.

With a shaky hand, I peeked at the face down card. Four. Now, assuming my math skills aren't completely screwed up, that puts me at eleven, ten away from the twenty-one I'm supposed to be aiming for.

"Austin?" their dad asked.

Austin, who was sitting to their dad's left, the one who was dealt to first, thought for a second, though I don't know why. He had a two on top. Even if he had an ace underneath, that would only put him at thirteen.

"Hit me."

"With pleasure," Jay said with a smirk.

Jay then proceeded to punch Austin in the arm. Austin rolled his eyes, but none the less, hit his brother back.

"Ha, ha, you're so funny, Jay," he replied sarcastically as his dad gave him another card.

Seven. If he had an ace underneath, he was at twenty now. I had a feeling he had the ace, as he smiled happily at the seven, and opted to stay.

"Jay?"

"Stay," he said, smirking. "You're up, newbie."

"Hit or stay, Sonny?" their dad asked me, smiling encouragingly.

I looked down at Annabelle, then back up at her dad.

"Hit," Annabelle and I said simultaneously.

He smiled and dealt me a new card. King. I smiled slightly, then froze, just as I had when I spoke to Annabelle. It wasn't much of a smile, just a little hint of one, but it was more than I thought I had in me, that's for sure. This family … they're like mine in so many ways. They joke around, tease and pick on each other, but you can tell that they all have each other's backs. Things almost felt … normal here. Maybe that was exaggerating a bit, but I did feel a little better here. Like a small piece of me was returning.

"Stay," I said, shaking away my thoughts.

Feeling a bit of my old competitiveness resurfacing, I watched as the others made their calls, whether it be hits or a stay. Finally, the moment of truth … Their dad flipped over his face down card. A nine. Nine, three, eight. Twenty. He had twenty.

Austin flipped over his next. I was wrong. He didn't have an ace, he had a jack. So nineteen. Jay had nineteen as well.

With a feeling of triumph, I flipped mine, revealing my perfect twenty-one.

"Way to go, newbie!" Jay shouted, laughing.

"Told ya! Aren't ya glad you played?" Annabelle said, smirking up at me.

I couldn't help but crack that hint of a smile again as I nodded.

I spent the next few hours playing blackjack. After a couple more hands, Annabelle even joined in and they taught me how to make bets with the chips. I can't believe I'm saying this, but I actually had _fun_. Granted, I wasn't smiling and laughing like I normally would, and the feeling of fun was much more dull than it probably would've been back when I was still me, but I couldn't deny that something was there. This family, Annabelle especially, had brought a little bit of me back quicker than I would've thought possible.

After a while, everyone had headed off to bed, and once again, it was just Annabelle and I. I noticed she was still humming something. It seemed there was always a song in her head.

"You really love music, don't you?"

Annabelle smiled lightly. "Yes, I do. It's who I am, really."

"I see," I replied quietly. Silence fell between us. Again, I felt awkward, and again, she didn't seem to share my feelings. "You, uhm … you have a really nice family."

"Yeah, they're a pain in the ass, but I love 'em," she said, laughing. Suddenly, Annabelle got up and peeked out one of the small windows. "Looks like the storm's still going strong. Guess you'll be staying here tonight."

Annabelle walked over to me, and this time actually offered me her hand instead of just yanking me in whatever direction she pleases. I hesitated for a minute, but quickly put my hand in hers. She gently lead me out of the room we were in and back into the hallway. We then journeyed up the staircase and into what I assumed was a guest bedroom.

"There's extra blankets in the closest if you need 'em, though I doubt you will. If anything, you'll end up butt naked with all the covers on the floor. Beauty of livin' in Texas," she said, laughing. "Feel free to help yourself to any midnight snacks ya want, or anything else really. If ya need me, my room's at the end of the hall."

"Thank you," I said, knowing she could never know just how thankful I was for everything she had done.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the wait guys!
> 
> I hope you enjoyed this chapter … I actually had a lot of fun writing it. Hahha.
> 
> GUESS WHAT! The next chapter is the start of the explanation! I know, sooner than I said, but I just loved the way this chapter ended, with Oliver all semi-happy and so thankful to Annabelle and everything. That's honestly what I wanted … a bit of a bond being formed in him to her, you know? I needed that before I could start the explanation process. Hahha. Now, this doesn't mean you'll suddenly understand everything once the next chapter comes out, because I'm not sure about how much will be explained during chapter four, but I do know it's the start. So, yeah.(:
> 
> Love you guys!
> 
> With love,  
> -Chelsea(:


	4. Fred Weasley

_(The following takes place in Molly Weasley's point of view.)_

I sighed, plopping myself down in one of the dining table's chairs. I was exhausted, physically and emotionally. Things just kept getting worse and worse now a days. For starters, I had somehow managed to lose my wand, and as such has, had to do all the normal housework the muggle way. That had killed me physically. However, I could handle that; it was the emotional stuff that was killing me. Dark emotions had overcome everyone and no one was really sure how to deal with it.

Now that Sirius was gone, Harry was acting like he wanted to just give up and surrender to Voldemort, Arthur was still trying to recover from having been attacked, and my family had recently received some devastating news; one of the Weasley children had been killed by Voldemort. Although only one was killed, I felt as if I had lost two, for the one killed was George and the news seemed to have killed Fred right along side him. Fred hadn't spoken a single word since they'd gotten the news; he wouldn't eat, sleep, or do anything but lie in George's bed, curled up in a little ball.

I was trying so hard to be strong for everyone around here, but it didn't seem to be working. Harry wouldn't listen to anyone just yet, Arthur hadn't the strength to do much of anything, and as much as I hated to admit it, I was sure nothing could save Fred. Nothing.

"Hi, Mrs. Weasley," Hermione said as she walked into the little kitchen area.

Startled, I quickly jumped from my chair, putting on the cheeriest smile I could muster up, and began busying myself with more chores. "Good mornin' deary," I replied.

"Mrs. Weasley," she called. I looked up at her, my fake smile still in place. "Are you alright?"

I let out a strained laugh. "Of course my child. I mean, things aren't like they used to be. I've seen brighter days, that's for sure, but you can't let the dark days keep you down. You-Know-Who does these things to try and break us, but we'll show him! The Weasleys are stronger than his little games. I mean, I'm fine, perfectly alright, never better. Well, maybe that last one is a bit of an overstatement, but I'm doing great and-"

My pointless ramblings were cut off by Hermione throwing her arms around me.

"It's okay to say you're not alright, you know. I know you feel like you have to be strong, but if you don't admit how you're really feeling, it'll break you down," she said quietly.

I sighed, wrapping my arms around her as well. "Thank you, deary." I took a seat at the table again and Hermione sat across from me. "Arthur and Harry I'm not too worried about. Arthur will heal soon enough and I know that it won't be long before the pain of losing Sirius will turn into the drive Harry needs to keep up the fight. It's Fred that's got my heart breaking. He hasn't been the same since … since we got the news, and I just don't know if he ever will be," I explained.

"I know what you mean," she replied. "I worry about him, too. Has he been down to the shop?"

"No, he hasn't. I don't know what will become of their shop. We'll probably have to take everything out and just sell the building. I don't think Fred could run it without George by his side."

That was when I felt another presence. I looked up and standing by the stairs was Fred. I wasn't sure how long he was standing there, but I was too shocked to even care about what he'd heard. He didn't look good at all; his face had tear stains on it, his skin was a sickly chalk color, with dark circles under his eyes that almost looked painful, and his body was reduced down to nothing more than skin and bones.

"Fred," I gasped.

Hermione's eyes went wide and she whipped around to see him. Fred just stood there, no emotion on his face.

"Don't," he said, his voice quiet, shaky, and rough.

"Don't what, dear?" I asked.

"Sell it."

I knew he was referring to the shop. I wasn't surprised he didn't want me to sell it. It's been a few months since we got the news about George, but Fred hadn't allowed us to get rid of anything of his. I didn't think it was very healthy; it was like he thought he could preserve George's memory through his belongings.

I just looked at him sadly. I didn't want to encourage this behavior, but I didn't know what else to do. "We won't," I replied quietly.

Fred just stared at me, his face emotionless, but his eyes full of pain. At a few moments, he walked out the front door. I was pretty sure he was going for a walk, which I was happy about a little. He hadn't moved from his old room since we got the news, so it was definitely an improvement, even if it's as small as going for a walk.

Hermione turned back to me, waiting for something, anything. All I could do was cry.

"I'm so afraid for him."

* * *

 _(The following takes place in Fred Weasley's point of view.)_

I laid down under the tree by the lake outside, my thoughts jumbled and unclear as they have been for a while now. I don't know what to think anymore. I don't know what to think, what to feel, what to do, or how to continue on. I don't think I can.

He's gone.

Just thinking those words was like shoving a knife through my heart. He was so much more than my brother; he was my twin, my best friend, my other half, the most important thing in my life, and now he's gone. As much as I didn't want to believe it, it was true. What am I supposed to do without him? I've never been away from him for more than a couple of days, and now they expect me to spend the rest of my life without him.

"I presume your part of the Weasley family?"

My eyes shot open at the sudden voice, but quickly shut from the pain of the sunlight. I blinked a few times, allowing my eyes to adjustment. Standing above me, leaving over me, was an older woman I had never seen before.

"I … yes?" I replied, standing up.

"Here. Albus told me to give this to you," she said, handing me a little blank business card. "He said he'll come by and speak with you about it as soon as possible."

"What is it?" I asked, turning it over every which way. No matter how I looked it at, it was just a blank piece of paper.

"I'm not entirely sure. He said you guys would know what to do with it."

I stared at it for a few moments. I vaguely noticed her walking away, but I was more focused on this card. Suddenly, part of the card began to darken and slowly words appeared. As I started seeing something appear, I thought it would end some of my confusion, but it actually made me more confused.

All the card said was;

"W.A.M.P.A.

T.N.R."

Leave it to Dumbledor to be so vague. I gave up trying to figure anything out, since she did say he'd be by to talk to us about it, and laid back down under the tree, the card still in my hand.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heyy guys,
> 
> Sorry this chapter took so long! I've been super busy. Also, it is a bit short and it ends a little abruptly...but I didn't want to go too far into the storyline just yet. I want to torture you guys a bit longer, keep you confused. Hahah. Not really. It just isn't time to bring certain things in yet. I think the next one or two chapters will explain everything. So, just bare with me a little longer!
> 
> With love,  
> -Chelsea(:


	5. New York City

_(The following takes place in Fred Weasley's point of view.)_

I had been lying under the tree for hours upon hours now. It was just starting to get dark when I saw a figure walking towards our house. I watched as just before he reached the door, he turned and looked at me. Even in this light, there was no mistaking who this figure was; Dumbledor. I stood up and walked into the house, Dumbledor following right behind me.

"Albus. It's good to see you," my father greeted, shaking Dumbledor's hand.

While his attention was mostly on Dumbledor when we walked in, I didn't miss the sideways glance of worry he gave me. I had long since grown used to getting these looks from everyone, including Hermione and Harry. They were all worried, but they all knew better than to say anything; it wouldn't do any good.

"To what do we owe this pleasure?"

"Ah, well … it's time," Dumbledor replied, smiling.

There was something weird about his words and his smile. His words made no sense and he sounded like he was choosing them carefully. As for his smile, well, it didn't seem like a normal smile; there was no good feelings behind it. It was just an empty smile.

"Time for what?" my mum asked, seeming as confused as I was.

"Is Harry here? What about Hermione?" he questioned, ignoring my mum's question.

"Yes, they both are," she replied.

"Ron and Ginny as well?"

"Yes, they're here," my father said, the confusion plain on his face as well.

"Very good. Well, we must be off, then," Dumbledor said, walking out of the house. We all stood there, dumbfounded. Dumbledor poked his head in the door. "Quickly, please. We haven't much time."

My father and mum shared a look before my mum hurried up the stairs to fetch Harry, Ron, Hermione, and Ginny. My father and I then followed Dumbledor out. We found him standing over an ordinary muggle book, which I soon realized was a portkey. As I realized this, my mum and the others had caught up to us. Without a single word, Dumbledor grabbed the portkey. We all quickly followed his lead.

I hate portkeys. I much prefer Apparating. Sure, it's tricky and uncomfortable, but at least I land on my feet instead of my back.

We landed in a grass field. Not too far from the grass field was a bunch of tall buildings. It didn't look familiar to me at all. I was fairly certain we were in muggle territory; I could hear the muggle cars from here.

"New York City?" Hermione asked, shocked. "Why are we in New York?"

Dumbledor smiled at her, but didn't respond to her question. Now, I never paid much attention to muggles, but New York I had heard of. It was a big muggle city all the way in America. Knowing this only confused me more, though. I didn't bother thinking about it too much, knowing that Dumbledor isn't the type to stop and explain what's going on.

"Mr. Dumbledor!"

I looked over to the voice to see someone running over to us who looked like a muggle; he was dressed in a muggle tux with some sort of muggle device in his hand. I couldn't figure out what it was. It was about the size of an average book, but much thinner.

"William Pierce," Dumbledor said, shaking the man's hand with a smile. They began walking together. Everyone shared a quick glance before following after them. "Does Thusia know we're coming?" Dumbledor asked.

"I'm afraid not. I haven't been able to get a hold of her. She's been awful busy lately," he replied.

We reached the back of a building and William led us through a door. The inside was fairly peaceful and quiet, but filled with muggles. It looked like a bank.

We stood out like a sore thumb, dressed in very different clothing than the muggles, but no one gave us even a single glance as William led us through the crowd and to big metal-looking doors. He pushed a button to the side and with a ding, the doors slid open, revealing a very small room which we all squeezed into. Once inside, he pushed another button and the doors closed. Then, the room began to move up. Eventually, it came to a halt and with another ding, the doors opened up again.

We filed out of the small moving room and found ourselves in what looked like an office. Well, right outside an office anyway. There was a small girl sitting behind a desk. She was very frail and awkward looking. She had thick glasses, dull brown hair that had been thrown up into a messy bun, and a very skinny, gangly body. Next to the desk she was sitting at was a door which looked like it led into a very big office.

"Mr. Pierce!" she shouted in surprise, jumping out of her chair to greet him, only to trip over her own feet and fall flat on her face.

William rolled his eyes, but quickly went to help the young girl to her feet. "Honestly, Claire, I'd like to spend one day with you where you _don't_ trip or drop something."

"I-I'm so sorry, Mr. Pierce!"

"Dumbledor, this is Claire, Thusia's newest intern. Claire, this is Albus Dumbledor," William said.

Claire's eyes went wide at the mention of Dumbledor's name. She quickly grabbed his hand, shaking it vigorously. "Mr. Dumbledor! It's a pleasure to meet you, sir, a big pleasure."

"Uhm, Claire, don't you have some papers to file or something?" William said, pulling her hand away from Dumbledor's, which she was still shaking with much force.

"Oh, uhm, yes, sir!" she shouted, returning to her desk.

William sighed, shaking his head and lead us through the door. I was right. The door led into a very roomy office with a big desk and a few couches.

"Thusia should be here soon," William said, standing over by the desk.

Dumbledor took a seat on one of the couches and I quickly followed his lead. The others looked at each other for a moment before joining us on the couches. It wasn't long before the door swung open. A beautiful young girl with golden brown hair that was up in a clip and bright green eyes walked in, looking stressed, worn out, and flustered. She had a big stack of papers and folders in her arms and some sort of device in her ear that she was talking into … or, yelling into, rather.

"I don't _care_ if they want to see the Eiffel Tower, we're not running a bloody travel agency here!" she yelled, throwing slamming the stack of papers down on the desk. "Alright, alright, alright, alright! We'll move them to Paris, okay? But you tell them this is the _last_ time I am moving them! I don't care if their daughter is allergic to the air there, we can't keep doing this, do you understand me?" She paused, seeming to be waiting for a response from whoever she was talking to. "Thank you," she sighed, plopping herself down in the chair at the desk. She pulled the thing out of her ear and slammed her head down onto the desk, groaning in frustration.

"What idiot ever came up with this _stupid_ idea?" she asked, head still down.

"I believe that was you. I told you you were crazy, but you just wouldn't listen," Dumbledor said, chuckling as he stood.

The woman raised her head, a smile now on her lips. "Thanks, Dad. How encouraging," she replied sarcastically. She then stood up and walked over to Dumbledor, embracing him in a tight hug. "It's nice to see you again. I've missed you."

"I've missed you, too, child," he replied.

This girl, who I think I remember William calling Thusia, suddenly caught sight of us. Her eyes sunk, looking somewhat saddened, and the smile disappeared from her face. She looked up at Dumbledor seriously.

"Is it that time already?" she asked quietly.

"I'm afraid so. A little sooner than I had anticipated, I'll admit, but the time is now," he replied, that same smile on his face, the empty smile I saw before, like there was no happiness behind it.

"Okay," she said, nodding her head.

Dumbledor turned towards us. "I have to go now, but I'm leaving you in very good hands. Thusia will explain everything to you."

Dumbledor began walking out, but just before he stepped into the moving room again, Thusia spoke up once more. "Dad," she called out. Dumbledor turned to her. "Thank you," she said, her face serious and sad. Dumbledor simply smiled lightly and then left.

I had no idea what just happened, but I wasn't sure I cared. Everyone around was confused and worried and anticipating what was going to happen, but I just couldn't seem to find those same emotions within me. I couldn't find any emotions in me, honestly. I knew I wasn't handling George's death well, but it was only now that I realized just to what extent it was. I should be panicking like everyone else. I guess, without George, I'm just nothing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HI AGAIN!
> 
> Chapter five! Like how quickly I got this out? Aren't you so proud of me? Hahah. It's not much longer than the last one, I know, but I just felt like keeping you guys confused for one more chapter. Hahah. The next chapter will explain _everything_ , though, so no worries! Are you guys excited for the explanation? I hope you guys like it and it'll be worth all the frustrating confusion! Hahha.
> 
> With love,  
> -Chelsea


	6. W.A.M.P.A.

_(The following takes place in Thusia's point of view.)_

"Mind explaining what exactly is going on here?" Mr. Weasley asked calmly.

"Not to worry, Mr. Weasley, everything will be explained shortly. If you all will follow me, please," I said, smiling at them.

I knew how confusing this must be for them, but this isn't something that can be explained all at one. You sort of have to ease people into it, and it starts by showing them. I walked out of my office, my assistant William following closely behind me. As I stepped into the elevator, turning to face the door, I saw the Weasleys (along with Harry and Hermione) still standing in my office, looking confused. I smiled, gesturing them to follow us. They all shared a look before joining us in the elevator.

Once they were all piled in, I turned to the panel and pressed the little black button at the bottom corner, followed by the buttons to floors seven, three, five, and seven again … in that order. I then stood back, a smile still on my face, as the doors closed and the elevator began to move.

"Why did you press all those?" Hermione asked.

"Ah well, seven-three-five-seven is the passcode. We had to install that so that clueless muggles wouldn't accidentally stumble upon what we really do here. The insurance company you just saw is really more of a cover-up. I mean, it's a real insurance company that we run and is actually used by many muggles; it has to pass as an actual company so people don't go snooping."

"And what is it that you actually do?" Harry chimed in.

"Everything will be explained in due time, Harry," I replied, smiling back at him.

It was silent after that, but only for a second.

"If I recall correctly, you referred to Albus as 'dad.' I wasn't aware Albus had a daughter," Mr. Weasley stated.

"He doesn't. Biologically, he isn't my father, but he's raised me since I was eleven. He's really the only father figure I've ever known."

Just as I finished my explanation, the elevator dinged and the doors opened up. I was glad for the excuse to drop the conversation and avoid more questions. I can't blame them; this was probably a very confusing and frustrating situation for them, but I couldn't answer their questions without a thousand more being raised. This is why it's easier to simply show them.

Enjoying the silence, I led everyone out from the elevator. I could see the looks of shock on their faces as they stepped out.

The place we were now at was very different from the bank they were at just moments ago. This place had no windows and was very noisy. Muggles and wizards alike crowded the huge open space. Big, bulky desks and ratted, old books were scattered about the room, paintings of famous witches, wizards, and muggles hung all over the walls, and the only other door besides the elevator doors behind us, was a big, wooden double door on the other side of the huge, chaotic room.

By now, I was more than used to the mess and chaos of this room, but I could the others were still in a bit of shock.

"This way, please," I said, smiling at their expressions.

I led the way to the big door, zigzagging through all the obstacles. William stepped ahead of me to open the doors like the gentleman he is. He gripped both of the beautifully crafted golden handles and pushed open the doors with a little effort. Behind these doors was a much more peaceful environment; a long, empty hallway made of cool metal.

The hallway was so long you couldn't even see the end and there were many doors spaced evenly all the way down. I led everyone through the third door to the left. This door opened into a much shorter hallway, with only a single door at the end.

The door at the end of this hallway had a panel on it. I entered the ten numerical digits that were the passcode, then placed my thumb on the finger scanner. With a little beep and a click, the door unlocked.

"What is this place?" Molly Weasley asked, eyes wide as she took in the room we were now standing in.

This room was quite noisy; telephones ringing, voices echoing against the metal walls, and fingers tapping away on computers and laptops. This room was circular with computers and electronic gadgets lining the walls. The center of the room was raised like a platform and had but one desk on it; my desk, designed to have a perfect view of everything going on in the room.

"Welcome to W.A.M.P.A.," I said, leading them up steps and taking a seat at my desk.

"Wham-pah?" Arthur asked, dumbfounded.

"Not wham-pah; wahm-puh," I repeated, carefully pronouncing the word before spelling it out, "W, A, M, P, A. W.A.M.P.A."

"What's W.A.M.P.A.?"

"Wizard and Muggle Protection Agency."

"A protection agency? I don't get it," Hermione said.

"Muggles and wizards alike fear Voldemort; we offer them both protection. Our first priorities are those Voldemort has already gone after, has a grudge against, or knows too well for them to be safe. Basically, those in direct danger. However, we also gladly offer our services to those who simply fear for their lives or perhaps don't want their children growing up in Voldemort's reign. Whatever the reason, the process is the same.

We give them new identities, usually muggle identities, though some prefer to keep magical identities, a new home, a job, and anything else they need. We keep an eye on them and for major cases, even place their home under a protection spell. We make sure no Death Eater nor Voldemort himself learn anything of their whereabouts or true identities. In fact, for those in serious danger, we'll often fake their deaths. Dumbledor has asked that we place all of you under our protection. In fact, we already hav-"

"No," Harry said suddenly. I knew this was coming. "You want us to run and hide? I don't think so!"

"I agree with Harry! We have to stay and fight!" Hermione chimed in.

"Listen to me; you aren't acting cowardly, you aren't running and hiding like a little puppy with it's tail between it's legs, you aren't surrendering, you aren't allowing him to win. Dumbledor has a plan, one he has been working on for many years. He has asked many witches, wizards, and muggles to help with this plan. Now, I don't know his plan; no one does, we only know our part in the plan. However, I do know this; his plan is, more or less, to weaken Voldemort as much as possible.

No one can kill him but you, Harry, but you aren't in this fight alone. The things Voldemort has done has effected all of us, not just you. We all want a piece of Voldemort, and that's what we're doing. We're all taking a little piece of him so that when the time comes, you will have the greatest odds possible.

Now, Voldemort won't be able to figure out Dumbledor's plan, but he will realize that we're all up to something, and when he does, you can bet your arse he'll be coming after you and everyone dear to you.

We need you safe, Harry, as well as you, Weasleys, and you as well Granger until Dumbledor is finished. That is where I come in. Live today, fight tomorrow," I paused. "Satisfied?"

Harry looked a little stunned by my rant, but nodded slowly, as did everyone else.

"Good. Then, as I was saying, we already have identities we've established for all of you. You have a nice home set up in Texas. There will be four others living with you, as well as myself, but before we get to that, we're going to start with something simple; your new names. Listen up and listen good, because I'm only going to go through this once.

Arthur, you're Mark, Molly is Julie, Fred's James, Ron's Rupert, Ginny's Bonnie, Harry's Daniel, and Hermione, you're Emma. I'm Olivia. From this point forward, that is what you will be calling each other. Get used to it, and get used to it fast. We can't afford any slip-ups.

Now, back to the others living there... like I said, there are four. One of them you will call Oliver, and he will be joining your family, Julie and Mark, as another son. The other three are adults you will call Alan, David, and Gary. Alan, David, and Gary are established as brothers, and Julie, you will be their sister. Daniel, you will be Gary's son, and Hermione, you'll be my sister. We're David's daughters.

Got it?"

I couldn't help but laugh. They were all staring at me like I had gone insane. Perhaps I was moving a bit too quickly. It's hard to remember that they aren't used to the way things work as I am. Besides, I had already been down to this house before to established all the identities, so I'm already used to the names and relations.

"Alright, let's do a little exercise, since that was a bit quick. We'll start with you, James. I'll give you a name, and you point to who the name belongs to," I said.

Fred looked reluctant, but nodded none the less.

"Rupert." Fred thought for a second before slowly pointing towards his brother Ron. "Good. Julie."

I went through all the names and was quite surprised that Fred knew all of them. We spent the next half hour or so playing some name games to get everyone used to their new names. Names are very important in this business. I was surprised with how well they seemed to be handling things after this. Perhaps this won't be as difficult as I thought. Then again, we still have the plane ride with a bunch of muggles to deal with … I'm sure that'll be interesting.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, guyss.
> 
> Sorry this chapter took so long! I've had like major writer's block...to the point where I don't even _feel_ like writing...and that's a rarity. Usually all it is is I want to write, but nothing's coming out, you know? I literally had to force myself to write this chapter. It wasn't fun. Hopefully that doesn't show and the chapter is still pretty good. I hope so. So...technically, not everything was explained yet, but I'm curious...have you guys figured it out yet? Hahha.
> 
> With love,  
> -Chelsea(:


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